"Yes."
"How?"
He turned in surprise. All these questions were rather unusual.
Nevertheless he answered her, and truthfully.
"I was shot in the leg by a drunken Indian."
"While on duty?"
"Yes." Unconsciously he was forgetting to add "Miss", which was the patent of his servility. And I do not think that just then she noticed this subtraction from the respect due her.
It was eleven o"clock when they arrived at the gates. She dismounted alone. Warburton was visibly done up.
"Any orders for this afternoon, Miss?"
"I shall want the victoria at three. I have some shopping to do and a call to make. Send William after Pirate. I am very grateful for what you have done."
He made no reply, for he saw her father coming down the steps.
"Betty," said the colonel, pale and worried, "have you been riding Pirate? Where is he, and what in the world has happened?"--noting the dust on her habit and her tangled hair.
She explained: she told the story rather coolly, Warburton thought, but she left out no detail.
"You have James to thank for my safety, father. He was very calm and clear-headed."
_Calm and clear-headed!_ thought Warburton.
The girl then entered the house, humming. Most women would have got out the lavender salts and lain down the rest of the day, considering the routine of a fashionable dinner, which was the chief duty of the evening.
"I am grateful to you, James. My daughter is directly in your care when she rides, and I give you full authority. Never permit her to mount any horse but her own. She is all I have; and if anything should happen to her--"
"Yes, sir; I understand."
The colonel followed his daughter; and Warburton led d.i.c.k to the stables, gave his orders to William, and flung himself down on his cot.
He was dead tired. And the hour he had dreaded was come! He was to drive her through the shopping district. Well, so be it. If any one exposed him, very good. This groom business was decidedly like work.
And there was that confounded dinner-party, and he would have to limp around a table and carry soup plates! And as likely as not he would run into the very last person he expected to see.
Which he did.
XIV
AN ORDEAL OR TWO
Mr. Robert vows that he will never forgive me for the ten minutes"
agony which I gratuitously added to his measure. It came about in this wise. I was on my way down Seventeenth Street that afternoon, and it was in front of a fashionable apartment house that I met him. He was seated on his box, the whip at the proper angle, and his eyes riveted on his pair"s ears. It was the first time I had seen him since the day of the episode at the police-station. He was growing thin. He did not see me, and he did not even notice me till I stopped and the sound of my heels on the walk ceased. Arms akimbo, I surveyed him.
"Well?" I began. I admit that the smile I offered him was a deal like that which a cat offers a cornered mouse.
He turned his head. I shall not repeat the word he muttered. It was very improper, though they often refer to it in the Sabbath-schools, always in a hushed breath, however, as though to full-voice it would only fan the flames still higher.
"What have you to say for yourself?" I went on.
"Nothing for myself, but for you, move on and let me alone, or when I get the opportunity, Chuck, I"ll punch your head, gla.s.ses or no gla.s.ses."
"Brother-in-law or no brother-in-law."
"Chuck, will you go on?"--hoa.r.s.ely. "I mean it."
I saw that he did. "You don"t look very happy for a man who has cracked so tremendous a joke."
"Will you go along?"
"Not till I get good and ready, James. I"ve told too many lies on your account already not to make myself a present of this joyful reunion.
Has Miss Annesley any idea of the imposture?"
He did not answer.
"How did you like waiting in Scott Circle the other night?"
Still no answer. I have half an idea that he was making ready to leap from his box. He ran his fingers up and down the lines. I could see that he was mad through and through; but I enjoyed the scene nevertheless. He deserved a little roasting on the gridiron.
"I am given to understand," I continued, "that you act as butler, besides, and pa.s.s the soup around the table."
Silence. Then I heard a door close, and saw a look of despair grow on his face. I turned and saw Miss Annesley and Mrs. Chadwick coming down the steps.
"Why, how do you do, Mr. Henderson? Mrs. Chadwick."
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting this famous young orator,"
purred Mrs. Chadwick, giving me her hand. She was a fashionable, not to say brilliant, _intrigante_. I knew her to have been concerned indirectly with half a dozen big lobby schemes. She was rather wealthy.
But she was seen everywhere, and everywhere was admired. She was as completely at home abroad as here in Washington. She was a widow, perhaps thirty-eight, handsome and fascinating, a delightful _raconteur_, and had the remarkable reputation of never indulging in scandal. She was the repository of more secrets than I should care to discover.
I recall one night at a state function when she sat between the French amba.s.sador and that wily Chinaman, Li Hung Chang. She discoursed on wines in French with the amba.s.sador and immediately turned to the Chinaman and recited Confucius in the original Chinese. Where she had ever found time to study Chinese is a mystery to every one. The incident made her quite famous that winter. Brains are always tolerated in Washington, and if properly directed, push a person a good deal further than wealth or pedigree. Washington forgives everything but stupidity.
Not until recently did I learn that at one time Karloff had been very attentive to her. His great knowledge of American politics doubtless came to him through her.
"Where are you bound?" asked Miss Annesley.
"I am on the way to the War Department."
"Plenty of room; jump in and we shall drop you there. James, drive to the War Department."
Ordinarily I should have declined, as I generally prefer to walk; but in this instance it would be superfluous to say that I was delighted to accept the invitation. I secretly hugged myself as I thought of the driver.